An Unforseen Fate
by Mojotheomegawolf
Summary: It is January of 1925. Nome has been plagued by the Diphtheria virus, and the only hope that the desperate town has left lies, though unbeknownst by the locals, in the paws of its local hybrid outcast. But Fate cannot be predicted, and when it takes a turn for the worst, the consequences that follow will leave the lives of many in shambles. T for language.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The date was January, 1925.

The small town of Nome lay peacefully in its obsoletion on the barren Alaskan Frontier, its roofs capped with fluffy, white powder from the snow that trickled slowly down from the grey clouds that loomed above it. It was cold on this day, with a persistent and bitter wind, but these thoughts eluded the mind of a certain canine as he lay calmly on the bow of his boat, watching the sleepy little town from afar like he did nearly every day of his life; longing for acceptance, even though he knew that obtaining it was impossible. He knew what he was, as well did the town, and he knew that no matter what he did he could never change that. For hours he had lain motionlessly on the rail, simply blinking tiredly at the town, with his tail draped lightly over the side behind him and his paws hanging limply over the edge before him, and in this time, a layer of snow had accumulated along the length of his body and had steadily grown thicker with the passage of time; but the depth of the drift was hardly noticeable, for the snow that fell was light and thin. The canine sighed, letting his ears fold flat to the top of his skull and it was then that he found his icy blanket, for his sensitive ears were bitten by fire as soon as they touched his head. He groaned in annoyance and closed his eyes lightly then slowly pushed himself up onto his feet and stumbled his way down to the deck of the boat. He lazily shook the snow from his fur and then carried himself drunkenly toward the cabin, sauntering along with his head held low to the ground and his paws dragging heavily beneath him.

He needed not to open his eyes, for the old, grey blanket was always in the same place every day, and as soon as his head breached the doorway to the cabin, he ducked his head all the way to the deck and nosed his way beneath the ragged pallet of wool, turned half of a circle, and flopped heavily down onto the hard, wooden deck, folding his paws before his chest and carelessly depositing his head on said appendages. He turned his eyes over to the bowl of stale, dried kibbles that Boris had left him and regarded its contents with distaste. He felt like the most useless creation to ever be put on this planet, felt as though he didn't deserve to eat the meal that he was given as he knew that somebody out there who was actually worthy of living their life could eat it rather than him. Why waste food on a useless, hybrid freak? He rolled his eyes and turned his attention forward then closed them lightly, sinking further beneath the blanket so that only a hairline crack of wood and white light beneath the fabric could be seen. He hated himself and cursed what he was, hated the world that had always cursed him for what he was, and on countless occasions, he would find himself staring longingly at the mountains or at the river, knowing that if he were to hurl himself over or into either of them, he would be doing the world a favor by ridding himself from it.

He shook the thoughts from his mind, for such thoughts of self-destruction were dangerous. He could kill himself, and often times had been on the very verge of doing just that, but each and every time he was standing on that metaphorical ledge, he would think about the few people, the outcasts just like him that he would leave behind, and that would pull him away in the nick of time. He knew that Boris needed him just as much as he did, for he was in the exact same boat as Balto was. He was an outcast amongst his kind because he refused to fly and once he had become entangled in Balto's life, he had sealed his fate for the rest of eternity. If he were to go, Boris would be crushed, would maybe even die himself from depression for if he lost Balto, it would be like losing his own son; and where would that leave Muk and Luk? Those two would never be able to survive on their own. After all, they were mere cubs, afraid of the water, and had absolutely no idea how to fend for themselves. They needed Boris, maybe even more than either of them realized, for in him, the hybrid was certain, they only saw somebody of whom they could use to try and fill the empty void that their mother had left behind when she drowned. And then there was-

An unexpected shift of the breeze caused a sudden chilly draft to slice into the cabin, bringing with it a small flurry of snow; but mixed with it, was something far more desirable than the inescapable, frozen ice particles. It was her! She was here! The wolf-dog immediately felt his spirits lift and he rose to his feet, shucking the blanket to the floor, and then padded determinedly toward the bow of the boat, completely erasing all of his thoughts that he had quelled his mind with earlier. He hopped up onto the crates and stood with his forepaws on the rail of the boat, scanning the horizon excitedly. A thought entered his mind pertaining to why it was that she was coming all the way out here in the snow, but he quickly jettisoned such a thought, for any visit from her was a much welcomed gift. He knew it was her, for her scent was unmistakable, but at the current moment, he could not see the individual that he sought. It entered his mind that he may have imagined it, for she had been in his thoughts for the better part of the day, but his apprehensions were soon laid to rest when his wolfish eyes spotted a tiny red dot on the horizon line. He immediately felt his heart leap for joy and his stomach tie into nervous knots, but he was used to it, for this happened every time he was around her.

He had found it incredible that a girl such as her would ever even cast him anything other than an incredulous look, and he would have never foreseen them actually becoming friends, but she was different than all of the other dogs in town. She was the only one outside of his immediate "family" that was able to see him for who he was, not what he was. He sat back and smiled as he watched her draw nearer, folding his ears back limply and letting out a slow breath; but when another figure became visible, his smile quickly faded into a deep scowl. He had always been taught to see the good in people, but this particular canine had none whatsoever. He was taught to never hate anybody, but he did. He hated this guy. His name was Steele and he was the town's jock sled dog. He was always asserting his dominance over the other dogs in the town, was either respected or feared by any and all dogs; not to mention that he was the one who was solely responsible for making his life a living hell- but despite all of this, the guy was a coward, for he never walked the streets unless he had his gang of thugs to back him up. To say the truth, the wolf-dog was quite surprised to see that he had come out here alone, well except for Jenna, that is; and then the apprehensions began to rise up in his mind again.

Why was she with Steele? Could it really be that she had decided to finally give into his unrelenting attempts to get under her tail? If that was the case, Balto knew that he would have lost any and all reason to stay in town; but then on the breeze, he heard something that lifted his spirits up a bit. Though he could not make out what it was that they were saying, he could tell that the two of them were not on square ground, for he could tell by the general tone of the copper female's voice that she was not very pleased to be in his company.

"Steele, please, just leave me alone," she begged exasperatedly, attempting to push her way past him, but he would not step aside.

"Oh come on now Jenna, surely you don't want to be some dirty wolf's bitch now, do you?" he asked her mockingly, flashing his renowned evil smile.

Jenna growled, baring her canines threateningly.

"It would certainly be better than being with you," she snarled, again trying to step around him, but again he obstructed her path.

"Jenna you know that the only reason why you're even talking to the mutt is because you feel bad for him," he accused, "Everybody knows this; so why don't you stop playing around with the world's trash and come play with me?" he crooned, licking his lips wantingly as he ran his eyes over Jenna's sleek body.

Jenna had heard just about enough of this.

"Steele, you're nothing but a stuck up, egotistical prick," she growled defiantly and pushed him over onto his back, "and I feel bad for any girl who would even lay a paw on you," she finished, finally able to step around him unmolested.

Steele lay in the snow growling and trying to recollect his dignity and after a few moments, he rose to his feet and bared his canines at Jenna's back.

"Just you wait, Jenna," he called to her angrily, "You'll see! He's nothing! And then you'll come crawling back to me just begging for a second chance!"

Jenna only flipped her tail upward and continued to walk away, paying no heed to his words. Embittered and humiliated, Steele growled and shook the snow free from his fur and then turned around with his head held low, mumbling curses toward that mutt and that stupid bitch.

The hybrid only watched her with a smile of admiration, lifting his head up again to where his chin was parallel to the ground. He watched her for a moment longer with adoring eyes and then decided that he should probably greet her. He rose to his paws and hopped down from the crates on which he had earlier sat and made haste for the plank that led down over the starboard rail and to the ground below, his paws seeming to possess a certain bounce as he carried himself along, his tail sweeping happily behind him and his breaths excited, for a visit from Jenna was always the highlight of any day that he had since he had arrived in town. He arrived at the plank and started down it without even pausing, descending carelessly- too carelessly- for as he took his third step, he felt his right forepaw land on a patch of ice and then slide out from under his body. He let out an involuntary yelp and turned a somersault in the air before landing heavily on his left side. He groaned, cursing his luck and his clumsiness and winced as he drew his paws beneath him. Painfully, he pushed himself up off of the ground and shook his head then his body and slowly rolled his shoulders trying to rid his body of the dull pain that radiated deep beneath his fur. He could only hope now that Jenna hadn't seen his act of foolishness. He pinched his eyes together and rolled his neck.

"That's gonna hurt tomorrow," he mused quietly to himself, cricking his neck to each side.

"Yeah probably," he heard a female voice say to him with a hint of mockery in her tone, "and if I had to make any kind of assumption, I'd say that it hurts already."

The hybrid winced, flattening his ears and pulling his head to the side, for he knew that she had seen him fall, and then opened his eyes slowly, doing his best to keep his embarrassment hidden from his copper coated companion. However, Jenna was easily able to pick up on it and she laughed lightly at him, causing the wolf-dog's face to heat up beneath his fur.

"You… you saw that didn't you?" he asked her slowly, shamefully, moving his eyes intermittently between his paws and Jenna's chocolate irises.

Jenna allowed a giggle to tickle her throat.

"Yup," she chuckled, causing the hybrid to move his eyes away from hers again, "and if you're not more careful you'll have to worry more about yourself than Steele or lead."

The hybrid scowled a bit when he heard this.

"I'm sorry," Jenna apologized quickly, "I know that was mean."

The wolf-dog nodded slowly.

"It was," the hybrid agreed, "it hurt."

Jenna's face fell into a flat expression.

"Balto, I'm so sorry," she apologized, "Is there anything that I can do to make it up to you?" she asked him seriously.

Balto smiled provocatively.

"Well, I would be simply honored if you could accompany me into town for some fine dining," he teased, knowing that if they were to get anything at all together that it would either be from a trashcan or from the scrap pale that the butcher left outside of his building; that is if somebody hadn't already helped themselves to its meager contents already.

Jenna's face twisted into one that betrayed a sort of playful anger and she shoved him with a paw.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked him coyly, using a rather flirtatious tone.

Balto smiled.

"Maybe," he answered playfully, shooting her a sly grin, "after all, I'm just dying inside from that horrible thing that you said to me earlier."

Jenna sighed in defeat, playing along with his coitus game, for she actually thought that it would be a great idea getting to go out on a date with him; and after all, how could she say no now?

"You're so cheap," she accused with a chuckle, once again shoving him away.

Balto laughed at this as he rocked back onto his proper point of equilibrium and bumped her with his shoulder.

"Played you right into that one didn't I?" he teased her, smiling victoriously.

Jenna scowled and used her paw to bop the top of his muzzle in a friendly manner in turn causing Balto to chuckle.

"I guess you did," she answered reluctantly.

Balto smiled at her.

"So what do you say?" he asked excitedly.

Jenna was exceptionally happy to see him in such a felicitous mood, but then mixed into this was a sudden realization that her hybrid friend, and even she herself, often times had the tendency to forget about certain things while they were around each other, important things like his status in town and, though she felt bad for having to remind him, she knew that it would be for the better in the long run if she did rather than keep her mouth shut.

"It sounds like a wonderful idea, I mean really, it does" she began in a tone that foreshadowed the 'but' that was to follow, "but aren't you worried that… well… I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Balto's heart sank a little bit when he heard this and he dropped his head so that his muzzle was in linear correspondence to his hocks, folding his ears and letting a light sigh escape from his mouth. Even with the brevity of which such a sigh had lived its life, Jenna was able to pick it up and she felt her own happiness beginning to slip away from her as well. Balto knew that she was right, but he didn't blame her for it. He blamed himself mainly, kicking himself for even suggesting the idea in the first place, but at the same time he also wanted to impress her, to show her a good time. He wanted to show her that he could stand up for himself, take care of himself, show her that he was more than he seemed. However, the voice of reason in his mind spoke to him once again, telling him that getting into a fight was the last thing that he needed to do. God forbid somebody sees him tangling with any of the town's dogs and the next time somebody saw him what would be hurled in his direction would be far worse than a rock or a foul curse.

"You're right," he answered to her, his tribulation bleeding predominantly through his tone and his posture, "I'm sorry that I ever brought up the subject. I guess I just thought that I could slip in unnoticed. It was a stupid idea anyway."

Jenna lowered her head until it was level with his and tempted it up again with her eyes, but Balto only closed his own and turned his muzzle further away from her. Jenna kept her own head set in the position in which she had placed it and reached a paw over toward her hybrid friend's face, sliding it under his chin and then using it to pull his muzzle toward her.

"Balto look at me," Jenna crooned softly.

Balto considered resenting her comforting touch, resisting her demand to face her, but thought better of it and slowly allowed his head to pivot around until he was looking Jenna in the eyes.

"You don't have to prove a thing to me," she said to him in an effort to sway his emotion away from the sadness that had overcome him, "I don't care what they say about you because they don't know you like I do."

Balto was still laced with uncertainty in both himself and in her words and Jenna promptly continued her work of condolence.

"They look at you and they only see what you have on the outside," she continued, "they are so blinded by prejudice that they can't see beyond that. They can't see past your appearance and see who you really are; but I know who you are. You're a gentle and kind spirit, split between two worlds, forced to live a life without acceptance because of each side of your blood's failure to see the good that the other side possesses, and you're definitely somebody that I would be honored to go out on a date with, regardless of what they think of me."

Balto had so many emotions congealing together inside of his mind that he didn't know how he should feel. Should he be saddened by her words, or should he be happy that at least somebody in this world was able to fully understand him and cared enough about him to throw away their own reputation just so he could be happy?

"I'll tell you what I'll do," Jenna began again, still detecting hints of uncertainty from the half wolf, "just as soon as this crisis passes and Rosy is all better, we'll go for a walk to the mountains," she offered, causing Balto to lift his head slightly, "just you and me together."

Balto once again felt his heart leaping uncontrollably inside of his chest and he lifted his head up to its normal position, causing Jenna's to rise as well.

"Really?" he asked her, still in the throes of disbelief.

Jenna smiled.

"Yes," she answered, stepping closer to him and closing her eyes slowly, "really."

Balto could sense the desire in the advance that Jenna made toward him and he knew that this desire mirrored that of his own. He closed his eyes as well and the two slowly began to move their heads closer and closer to each other.

"My oh my isn't that just touching!" they heard a rather deep and very contemptuous voice tease, followed promptly by beguiling and unmistakable cackling.

Surprised by this, the two quickly separated, but neither Balto nor Jenna needed to turn around to know who it was that was there and the latter did not need to even see the scowl on the former's face to know that their presence was highly unwelcomed.

"What are you doing here Steele," Balto demanded coldly, lifting his head and turning to see the afore mentioned sled-dog approaching them with his usual band of cronies at his back.

Steele cocked his head to the side in confusion and let an inexplicable expression form upon his features.

"Balto Balto Balto," Steele said to him in a hurt tone, "I'm offended. I thought for sure we could have ourselves a decent and civilized conversation without becoming hostile toward one another, don't you think? Especially seeing as how I won't be in town for a while."

Balto growled.

"I don't reckon so considering how our last "little chat" ended," Balto rebuffed bitterly, flattening his ears and locking his jaw, "remember? I woke up in an irrigation ditch."

Steele only grinned while Jenna only watched, her apprehensions increasing with each moment that passed.

"Such a shame too," he replied, rolling his shoulders slowly and taking a step closer, "I would not have expected you to black out like that."

Balto's growl intensified in the depths of his throat and he stepped closer to his foe.

"You threw me into the corner of a house, asswipe, what did you think was gonna happen?" he accused.

"Balto please," Jenna begged from her position beside him, "be better than him. Don't give in to what he wants."

Steele shook his head and stepped between the two of them, shoving Balto forcefully away.

"Jenna, you deserve so much better than him," Steele began bitterly, referring to what he had earlier seen and heard, "why don't you just ditch the mutt and you and me have ourselves a little walk to my place," he offered, "there's some sausages waiting for you there in case you're interested."

Balto could only imagine what the true intent behind Steele's words was and he did not like that one bit. He was not going to stand idly by while he verbally assaulted her like that, not anymore.

"Alright Steele, you wanted a fight, well fine," Balto growled, "you can insult me all you want but you leave her out of this. She deserves far more respect than what you give her and I'll be damned if I let you say another word to her."

This in turn evoked taunting laughter from Steele's friends and caused Steele to smile sinisterly.

"My aren't we bold today," he mused, circling the hybrid, "but if you insist..."

Without wasting even a single second, Steele threw his stiffened forelegs into Balto's shoulder, causing the scrawny hybrid to roll onto his side. Balto stopped himself and got to his feet, but just as soon as he steadied himself, Steele hurled a vicious right hook in to the side of his muzzle and then brought his left paw slamming down onto the top of it, knocking Balto senseless for a moment. But Balto refused to fall. He was finished with being a push over. He was going to make his mark. He was going to defend his friend's honor, even if it killed him in the end.

"Steele stop this!" Jenna demanded, jumping in front of him, but Steele only shoved her away.

However, in this momentary span of confusion and diversion, Balto had recovered and was ready to go again. He knew that Steele was a coward, and therefore would not fight with rules, but Balto was no coward. He had morals and he was going to do his best not to violate them, so he waited until Steele was facing him before making his strike, raking a left hook across his face and then a right. Steele's head jerked to each side with the blows, but that was all that could be said about it, for Steele simply brushed them off as though a pup had batted his nose. Balto swung again, but Steele ducked away and slid his shoulder beneath Balto's chest, sending the hybrid skyward and then to his back a short distance away. Balto hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of his lungs, and Steele used this to his advantage. He slid his way to the downed hybrid and brought his paws down repeatedly on his face, using his claws to carve deep gashes all across his cheeks and his muzzle. Balto fruitlessly tried to defend himself with his forelegs, but he was too weak from the initial hit he had taken when he landed to put up much of a fight. Steele knew this, as did Jenna and the other three who watched, and he used this to his full advantage. He carved out Balto's body, dragging his claws along the hybrid's chest and neck, but he was careful not to kill him, for tormenting him was much more fun than watching him die; and all Balto could do was scream while Jenna cried, knowing that she had to help her friend, but also knowing that she couldn't. Kaltag feared Steele, feared what would happen if he were to stand in his boss' way, but despite his reputation under Steele's command, he was still a good person. Though he himself was conflicted with his decision making from time to time, he knew what was right and what was wrong, and this was completely wrong. He had to put a stop to this before it got any worse, for it had already gotten way out of hand.

"Steele I think he's had enough," Kaltag called out, stepping forward a short distance under the apprehensive gaze of his allies.

However, Steele received the warning and finally withheld his paws and gazed proudly down upon his handy work. Balto's face was so swollen around his eyes that they did not open and his fur was matted with blood and snow. All around his muzzle and across his cheeks, were multiple gashes of varying length and points of intersection with each other, a true masterpiece if he did say so himself. However, Steele's cruelty was undying and he had to get one final shot in before he and his advocates evacuated the premises. He spat on the hybrid's destroyed face and then did something that nearly made Jenna throw up so disgusting and appalling was the act. Without warning, Steele jammed his paw forcefully down upon the barely conscious hybrid's throat, crushing his windpipe shut. Though Balto was only seconds away from passing out, he reacted to the blow as though he were functioning at his full mental capacity. He choked and coughed, gasping for air, trying to scream in pain, straining to breathe as he rolled and kicked about in the snow, clasping his stricken throat in his paws. He pitched hither and thither across the ground, gasping so perilously for air with quick and sporadic intakes. Jenna broke down and began to cry, rushing over to her friend and doing everything that she could to try and help him, but she was not a doctor. She could only cry and watch as he kicked about and then finally became still in the snow.

Steele only stood aside with a sadistic smile spread across his lips, but behind him, Nikki, Kaltag, and Star could only stare, their mouths slightly ajar and their disbelief so great that words could not reach their throats even if it were their will to speak. What they had just witnessed was probably the most despicable, the most disgusting, and the most appauling thing that they had ever seen and it made them physically ill to the very depths of their beings. Nobody deserved that. Not even him. Steele goaded in his victory for a few moments more and then slowly turned, uttering not even a word, and then began to walk slowly back to town; but as he passed his advocates, he shot them glances that told them to choose a side right then. He knew that they were disgusted by his actions and that their vision of him as an individual may have changed drastically, maybe to the point of resentment, for such feelings were perceptively evident on their faces, so he had to make it clear to them right now; they were either with him, or against him. Either way was just fine with him, but if they were to choose poorly, the result of their actions would be a most tragic and rather baleful accident. The trio of followers rose fearfully to their paws and fell in at their ringleader's back, only this time, they trekked a sizable distance behind him so as to ensure that they did not get in his way.

Jenna watched them go with hate and disgust boiling out of the tears that poured down from her eyes and she continued to bore such feelings into their backs until they were no longer visible on the horizon. It was at this time, that she turned her attention down to Balto once again. She was frightened. She did not know whether or not he was even alive, or if he was, if he could live after taking such a blow to his trachea, but her apprehensions were eased slightly when she saw the subtle rise and fall of her friend's chest cavity, signifying once and for all that her hybrid friend was indeed alive. She knew that she had to get him inside the boat, had to get him out of the snow, so she gently took hold of his scruff and gave him a strenuous pull, but she failed to even budge the unconscious wolf-dog. However, she was not going to give up on him. She took his scruff into her teeth once again and began to pull, groaning from the strain, but try as she might, she could only move his head and the very front of his shoulders. She began to feel desperation and helplessness begin to settle in upon her, making her panic and cry harder.

"Come on Balto," she begged, giving him another tug, "we have to get you inside."

But no matter how she tried, she could not obtain any kind of sufficient movement. However, her desperation only fueled her further, further provoking her to keep trying, to not let him down. She heaved heavy breaths, said respirations shooting forth from her mouth in long plumes of steam that danced skyward until they dissipated over her head, and after but a few moment's rest, she went at it again; but as she was lowering her head, she heard something in the distance that caught her attention, bringing her ears up to an alert erection and her head up a short moment thereafter. It sounded to her like a distressed screaming, but the distress was not that of physical pain. More so it was that of disposition, of somebody being pestered by things bigger than him. She did not even need to hear the accented mumbling and the childish laughter to know who it was that she had heard and before she had even seen them appear in the distance, she was running toward them and calling out their names.

"I swear zis is last time that I-"

"Boris!" the speaker heard, thus interrupting him from his muted rant.

Said snow goose lifted his head, as did his duo accompaniment of polar bear cubs, of whom only moments ago had been dancing about him in childish folly, and they peered about the horizon line in search for the one who had called; and a few moments later, they saw an unmistakable copper coated female running hastily in their direction. Boris was at first curious as to why she would be out here in the first place, but what concerned him even more so was her urgency, and he did not even need to ask questions to know that something was wrong.

"Boris, Luk, Muk," Jenna called, encouraging the trio to quicken their pace.

Finally, the two groups met, Jenna arriving breathlessly before them.

"Jenna vat is matter?" Boris asked her worriedly, evoking an unintelligible murmuring from the larger of the two polar bears.

The smaller of the two opened his mouth to translate for his brother, but Jenna cut him off.

"It's Balto," she said desperately, "Steele came out here and, and- he's-"

Boris did not wait for her to finish, nor did he make any attempts to calm her down. Fearing the worst, he took off toward the boat, moving across the ground just as fast as his little webbed feet could carry him. Muk and Luk were close behind him and when they caught up with him, Muk threw Boris up onto Luk's shoulders and the two charged onward with the disconcerted goose bouncing and squawking along atop the large one's back. Jenna normally would have laughed at such a sight were she not so worried for her friend, but given the circumstances of present, she merely followed along at their side until they all skidded to a halt a short distance beside Balto. So sudden was the stop that Boris had not the time required to brace himself against his own momentum and henceforth was sent careening forward off of Luk's shoulders and into the snow, skidding a short distance across the top and coming to a stop on his face. However, he was quickly up onto his feet and ran to Balto's side, joining Jenna Luk and Muk. The first thing he noticed was Balto's damaged face and he muttered something under his breath, more than likely a curse toward Steele and his gang. However, he was still more concerned as to why Jenna was so concerned.

"Vat happened here?" Boris asked in a flat tone, failing to take his eyes off of his friend.

Jenna did the best that she could to compose herself and then she opened her mouth.

"I- I was coming out here to see how Balto was holding up after what Steele had done to him in town earlier after the race and I guess that Steele got wind of it because he followed me," she explained, "I told him to leave me alone, but he wouldn't listen so eventually I had to force him to leave."

Boris nodded.

"I guess that must've really set him off because he returned a few minutes later with his little band of thugs and just who do you think Steele took his anger and humiliation out on?" she cried indignantly, using quite a substantial amount of emphasis in her words.

She was upset with herself, angry with Steele for what he had done, and more than anything, she was still scared for her friend.

"The beating wasn't the worst part," Jenna continued, "because after Steele had knocked Balto senseless, Steele took a cheap shot to his throat, and I-I'm just afraid, Boris," she pleaded, "I did everything I could, I tried to get him up inside the boat, but I'm just not strong enough to move him and I-"

"Jenna please," Boris interrupted her, laying a wing on her shoulder, "It vasn't your fault. Like you said, you did all you could do."

Jenna sniffled and nodded then they all turned their attention back down to Balto and Boris inspected him, seeing another subtle rise and fall in the hybrid's chest. Boris sighed in relief, knowing that Balto was alive, but what concerned him the most was the strike he had taken to the throat, for those kinds of strikes were often times fatal even if the victim appeared to be fine. As gently as he could, he ran his finger-like feathers along each side of the unconscious hybrid's trachea, checking to see that everything was right where it should have been, for internal bleeding, closure, or anything else that would jeopardize his life, and after a moment longer, he straightened up.

"He's going to be fine, Jenna," he finally said to her, "but he probably vill not be vaking for quite while."

Jenna released a breath that she was not aware that she had been holding and pulled Boris in for a hug.

"Oh thank you, thank you so much," she cried happily.

Boris squawked, his wings spread on each side, and very well just allowed himself to be embraced; even though he never did thoroughly enjoy close contact. After a few moments, Jenna released him and he stumbled back a few paces, righting himself and watching as some of his feathers fluttered to the icy ground. Jenna smiled sheepishly, but Boris only brushed it off.

"Muk, Luk," Boris called, turning to the two polar bear cubs, of whom still had their noses down to the unconscious wolf-dog.

Said polar bears jumped up into attentive poises, locking their eyes on their "uncle" and awaited his instruction.

Boris shook his head and walked over to them.

"Get the boy-chick inside," he ordered them calmly, "but be careful. We don't vant to damage him any worse."

Both of the bear cubs nodded and Luk, the larger of the two, lay down on his chest only about a foot to the left of their downed friend while Muk gingerly slid his paws beneath the hybrid's side, and then began to carefully lift him skyward. However, he was struggling, so Boris took an end in an attempt to help the cub, but even he was faltering under Balto's dead weight. Jenna noticed the two of them beginning to stumble and, through fear of them dropping their friend, rushed forward and slid her shoulder beneath Balto's upper body, therefore taking quite a substantial amount of weight off of the young cub and aged goose's hands. Boris and Muk silently turned their eyes to Jenna and she returned their gaze then gave a curt nod.

"Alright, on three," Boris instructed, repositioning his grip so that he would be pushing up on the hybrid rather than pulling.

Muk and Jenna readied themselves and waited for the count.

"Von, two, three!" Boris cried with a groan as the word "three" left his beak, for as soon as that word became audible, the three of them began to lift Balto higher and higher into the air.

"Alright, steady," Jenna called out, "up on your end a little bit, Boris."

Balto was then swung carefully until he was positioned above Luk's back and then they began to set him down.

"Alright, now gently let him down," Boris instructed.

Jenna began to slide herself out from beneath Balto but kept steady pressure, and once she was out, she finished in the lift by laying Balto's upper body gently down upon Luk's fluffy back. There were strained groans all around as the three of them slid their various appendages out from under the hybrid and took a step back.

"Now, carry- him- in," Boris huffed tiredly to Luk, getting on a side and holding his wings up against Balto so as to stabilize him.

Luk only nodded and began to rise carefully to his feet, making sure to keep his body as steady as possible, and once he was up properly on all fours, he began to walk in the direction of the boat, keeping his rate of progression at a deliberate and steady pace. As he approached the plank, Jenna got behind him and braced Balto so as to keep him from sliding off of Luk's back, and then the two began slowly up the plank, disregarding the way it bowed and groaned strenuously beneath their immense weight. Boris and Muk waited down at the bottom until Jenna, Balto, and Luk were safely over the top of the rail before they ascended the plank, each of them making quick work of the flimsy, worn out piece of wood, and joining their affiliates up on the deck of the boat.

"…im into the cabin," they heard Jenna instructing Luk, arriving in time to only here the latter of the statement.

There was a nod from Luk and he sauntered into the desired vicinity, pausing so Jenna could squeeze past him and move Balto's blanket before continuing inside; and once he had entered the cabin, he was told to lie down. He did as he was told and Jenna got on a side while Boris and Muk wordlessly filed in behind them, taking to the same side that Jenna was on.

"Alright boys easy does it," Jenna said to them, gingerly gripping Balto's limp shoulders, "on three."

Boris and Muk took their portions of the hybrid and nodded, silently signaling to Jenna that they were ready to proceed.

Jenna nodded and tensed her muscles for the laborious job ahead.

"One, two, three," she groaned and picked up her end, pinching her eyes closed.

Together, the three of them lifted Balto off of Luk's back and then gingerly laid him out on the floor of the cabin, positioning him so that he lay on his stomach with his tail wrapped about his body and his head laid upon his forepaws. They stepped back, tweaked a few minor infringements, and then gently draped the blanket over his body, thus effectively shielding him from the cold so that he may recover quickly and comfortably. For a moment, the four of them simply stared at the hybrid and then wordlessly left the room so as to give him privacy; but not a one of them would leave the boat, not until he arose. Jenna knew that he would probably not wake for at least an hour, maybe more even; but she did not care. She was going to stay out here until he woke up, even if that meant getting her tail chewed by her family when she got back. It would be nothing compared to how awful she would feel if she simply left Balto after what had happened, especially after the way he had defended her honor like that. Leaving without thanking him would not set well with her conscience.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing that Balto realized well before his eyes even opened, was the deep and searing pain that he felt radiating from his throat, this pain being one that instinctively evoked a swallow from the hybrid; but said swallow was immediately regretted for the mechanical motion of his Adam's apple only intensified the pain, causing him to wince as an attempt to cope with it. He slowly allowed his eyes to peel open and it was then that the real pain could register. As soon as the muscles around his eyes began to move, he could feel the swelling, of which he had only now recognized, jeopardized his vision, only allowing his eyes to open up about half way. He was dazed, his mind still lost in a fog, much to the point that he did not even realize that he had been brought inside; but he would soon register this just as soon as he shifted his body, feeling the woolen blanket tugging at his fur as it slid along his back. He paused for a moment then to ponder what had happened. He could remember everything right up to the point where Steele had delivered his third punch, but after that it was rather vague. He groaned and shifted his body again so that he may get his paws beneath him and then starkly pushed himself up off of the ground, allowing his blanket to roll off of his back and to the ground, and for a moment, he stood on wobbly legs, trying to rebuild his strength. After a short time had allotted, he coughed and took his first step.

"B-horis," he choked in a hoarse voice, staggering forward and out of the cabin as a drunkard would stagger home from the bar.

Just as soon as his voice had become audible, four forms flooded into his sight, these four forms being Boris, Luk, Muk, and Jenna, but as anxious as each of these individuals were to greet the hybrid, they paused with a respectable distance between him and themselves through fear of aggravating his wounds if they were to embrace him. Balto stood before them with his fatigued head held just above his shoulders, doing his best to greet the party with a smile; but in his current state, all he could manage was a meek and compulsory grin.

Jenna was the first to ask the imminent question that each of them had on their minds, meeting eyes with the hybrid and then breaking away intermittently.

"Are you… alright?" she asked him gauchely, her eyes retreating to her paws.

Balto sighed.

"Well… I feel like I kissed a train as it rolled by, but other than that I'm good," he answered hoarsely, however failing to allow his sense of humor to be squandered by the events that had transpired in the earlier hours.

This brought meager smirks to Boris, Jenna, and the two polar bear cubs, which in turn brightened Balto's smile faintly, but in truth he still felt terrible. Boris, having spent nearly three years with the hybrid, was able to pick around Balto's disguise, but he kept this to himself and simply turned wordlessly, reaching down near the wall adjacent to the entrance of the cabin and taking an old tin pan into his wings, splashing a few droplets of water out of the top. He turned to Balto once again and set the bowl before his paws.

"Drink zis boy chick," he said to Balto condolingly, "might help vith pain."

Balto nodded and dipped his muzzle down toward the pan, burying his lips in the slushy liquid and lapping at it greedily with a parched tongue, grimacing after each swallow from the soreness in his throat; and he did not stop until he had completely imbibed the pan's contents, pulling his head slowly back up and licking across his mouth with a loud smack once he had finished.

"Thank you," he thanked gratefully, evoking a curt nod from Boris.

For a moment, all remained silent, and then rose up the question in Balto's mind, the one question that Jenna dreaded the most.

"What happened to me?" he asked them in befuddlement, for the second half of the story remained aloof of his recognition and knowledge.

All eyes turned their focus to Jenna and under these gazes, however tranquil as they were; she shifted about apprehensively, failing to meet the eyes of any who looked upon her.

"Y- Steele almost killed you," Jenna answered flatly, sadness woven into her voice.

These words flowed into Balto's ears and swirled about in his psyche, bringing about a new sense of affliction and mortification to the hybrid. Hearing this angered him, bringing a red veil about the rims of his spectrum, for now that he had been reminded of the events that had transpired earlier, everything became clear to him right up to the point where he blacked out. He growled, ignoring the protestant uproar in the depths of his throat, and he slammed a paw into the snow which had accumulated on the deck.

"He kicked me while I was down," Balto seethed, "cowardly snake."

He began to pace, his energy returning to him with the new feeling of rage that coursed through his veins. He wanted Steele to hurt, wanted him to bleed for what he had done today; but Balto was no fool. He knew that the consequences for his actions would more than likely not be worth the result that he would hopefully get, and so these feelings of hatred he buried, telling himself that Steele would get his eventually, be it by him or by his own paws, one day he would get his.

Jenna could sense his anger and she was quick in her attempt to dispose him of it, stepping forward before him and catching his eyes with hers. No words were exchanged between the two, for words were not necessary for each of them to understand how the one standing across from them was feeling.

Balto stopped before her and stared into her gaze, thus settling himself again, and he returned to his previous state, only this time he did not hurt near as badly as he had before, for the mechanical motion of his body had worked some of the soreness out of his muscles. That did not, however, completely eradicate the physical impairments and mental ailments that still remained present to him. He could still only see out of one of his eyes and his throat throbbed viciously, but he knew that these would in time become nothing more than bitter memories just like any other reflection that he possessed about his past. It was apparent to him at this moment as he stared into the copper female's eyes that he was now unsure how he should be feeling, so he allowed himself to collapse under her gaze and succumb to the emotion that felt most natural to him, and this was depression. He allowed his thoughts to wander into the negative again. He was a feeble and weak canine, undoubtedly incapable of defending those whom he cared for, unwanted in the world, as was made evident in town earlier when he was shunned away from his position on the team that would be sent to retrieve the antitoxin to bring medical relief to the town's children, and now he had probably lost all hope that he had once possessed of actually being able to be with Jenna for the rest of his life. He had convinced himself at that very moment that Steele had been right all along and he was certain that Jenna knew he was right as well. The only reason why Jenna even affiliated herself with him was strictly because she pitied him. She was a mere saint who decided to help the wrong person and it was because of her good-hearted nature, that her name had been blackened in town as well. He knew the complexities of the town's society, witnessed firsthand the incredulous looks that Jenna got as she walked the general public, heard through the vine the derogatory rumors that floated about in the streets about him and her; rumors that she was pregnant with his pups, that she was in all senses mentally insane, and it was all his fault. He knew that she did not deserve this, knew that he did not deserve her pity, not even her presence. He was but dirt in the presence of a goddess.

Jenna was displaced by his silence, for she had expected him to say at least something, but as it were, he only stared at her, and then he would refuse to look at her at all. She could see the pain behind those faded, yellow eyes, but the thoughts in his mind that would bring such an exorbitant affliction to his presence eluded her. The situation had deteriorated completely at this moment, beginning with just the faintest flicker of hope that had now turned into a sea of pain and sadness for her hybrid friend. She should have just stayed at home today, spared Balto of the misery and emotional disposition; but she was selfish in her own needs to get out of town and speak with somebody who would actually listen to her. Balto did not blame her personally, but in her eyes it seemed almost as though he did because he turned away from her wordlessly now, a lot like he had done in the earlier hours of the day. His only desire at present was to be let alone so that he could grieve in solitary seclusion, but Jenna seemed to want to establish a form of closure before she made her departure. She cleared her throat nervously and took a step to follow him.

"Balto please," she begged, but he offered no response, did not even acknowledge that she had spoken to him.

Balto once again disappeared into the cabin and Jenna took another step to follow, but was stopped when she felt something deposit itself gently upon her shoulder. She turned to see Boris staring back at her with wistful eyes.

"Leave him to himself," he said to her gently, "he just needs a little time."

Jenna answered only with a slow nod, letting her ears fold back until they were only about a finger's width above her skull. She figured that she had better get along home, especially since Rosy was ill in the hospital, but before she left, she still had one more thing that she needed to take care of. As she walked past the cabin, she turned her head in toward Balto.

"Thank you for everything," she thanked despondently, not even pausing, and then took to the plank, slowly making her descent to the snow and then disappearing over the horizon before the town.

Balto offered no reply, only laid under his blanket thinking about all that had gone wrong, where he had gone wrong, where everything had gone wrong and these thoughts eventually coaxed him into a long, dreamless slumber.

* * *

Night greeted the hybrid's eyes as his eyelids slowly peeled themselves open, revealing just a silhouetted image of the cabin before him, made visible only by the subtle, blue rays of moonlight that bled through the doorway and many discrepancies in the wood surrounding him. The next of his comprehensions was that he was actually able to see out of both of his eyes and that the pain in his throat had lessened significantly. He was amazed at how much of a difference just a few hours of sleep could make for the healing process, but was not at all surprised when he found that he had woken with a mood that was very similar to the one that he had fallen unconscious with- however long ago that was. He wanted to just lay there, try to fall asleep again and just forget about his problems, but sleep simply would not answer his call and in the end he found himself pushing his body up from the ground and shaking his blanket to the floor and sauntering out into the night. He felt all of his anguish, all of his feelings of helplessness and despair, quelling up inside of him, fighting for a channel in which to escape. He had experienced this feeling quite often, going way back to the time that he realized that his mother had died that night in an attempt to save him and his brother from that lynx, and like every other occurrence since then, in his times of deepest remorse, he could feel his throat rising and falling, becoming tight and then dilating again, almost as though some primal instinct was trying to break itself free from the chains in which he had restrained it, but like every instance before, it failed to make a tangible presence. He knew not what this sensation was, and he quite honestly dreaded these feelings; but thus far he could not find any way to satisfy the urge, so once again he would have to bury the feeling as best as he could and get on with his life. As the very tip of his tail breeched the cabin doorway, he paused, allowing his eyes time to adjust to the darkness that surrounded him. In the distance, made visible only by the pallid, orange glow of lanterns and torch light was the town of Nome. Normally quiet at this hour, most of the humans having already turned out their lamps, the town would seem almost dead, ghost like; but tonight, the entire town seemed as awake and alive as it did on days of festival, for why should they not be celebrating? The "big heroes" were leaving out tonight on their quest for the antitoxin of which would bring relief to the sickly children of the town. He knew that he should not be thinking so negatively about the team elected to retrieve the medicine, for it mattered not who went to fetch it just so long as it were to arrive in time to save those in need; but despite all of this, he could feel a nagging sense of bitter betrayal tugging at the back of his mind. He had just as much reason and just as much right to go with them as anybody else on the team; after all, he did place first the qualifier, but his bloodlines ripped such rights away from him, obstructing him of his one chance at proving to the town once and for all that he was not the hell spawn that they saw him as. Was that all though? Or did this go deeper? Did he feel so let down because he knew that this would have been the best chance that he would have gotten at impressing Jenna? He could see himself running into town under the deafening roar of cheers and applause, the looks of weariness on the faces of the afflicted children as they were each slowly stirred from their sickly, coma-like slumber, could see Jenna standing in and amongst them, smiling back at him with admiration gleaming forth from her eyes; but all of that was just a dream now. Steele would fetch the medicine, receive all of the glory, maybe even finally convince Jenna to court with him, and as always, he would be stuck watching it all from the shadows.

These thoughts rambled through his mind as he hopped up onto the stack of crates that lay pressed up against the rail of the bow and stared out at the town; and not a moment too soon, for just as soon as his right forepaw made contact with the rail of the boat, the sled team could be seen bolting down the final stretch of Front Street and out of town. He watched them forlornly, turning his head slowly to track their progress across the dark ice. It wasn't long, however, before the darkness of night swallowed them, shielding them from sight. He sat himself back on his haunches at this point, allowing an embittered scowl fix itself upon his features and lowering his head so that his chin was parallel to the center of his chest. He shut his eyes tightly; jettisoning his anger, for that feeling would do nothing to solve his problem, and replacing it with defeat. It was time, he knew, for him to just except facts. Nothing in life had ever gone his way before, so why would he expect it to now? Boris was right all along. He won and they still refused to see past his inner wolf. He should have just stayed home today and he would have avoided it all; but-

His train of thought was derailed when he heard a familiar grunt and scrape as a certain white goose clambered his way up onto the crates and took his place wordlessly at his side. The two of them remained silent, neither one in much of a mood to talk, but for Balto, just having Boris beside him was enough at this point to provide comfort. He sighed and lifted his head, slowly opening his eyes. He kept his attention focused on the town, for he needed not look over to the old snow goose to know what he was thinking, and Boris needed not for Balto to speak to know what the hybrid was feeling, as was the mutual bond that the two shared with one another, the bond that allowed them to be so close, even to the point of love, the love found between a father and a son. Boris could sense the crestfallen hybrid's feelings beginning to bank and he laid a gentle wing on his shoulder.

"Come on inside boychick," he said softly, "you'll catch death out here."

Balto sighed, answering only with a single nod, and then rose to his feet, casting one final gaze out at the town, and then stepping down to the deck of the boat. He ran a slow glance toward Boris and then began to walk toward the cabin, sliding his way beneath his woolen blanket and laying his head on his paws. Boris followed behind him, taking his corner in the back and leaning against it, sliding himself down onto his rump and folding his wings across his plump belly.

"Good night," he said with a yawn.

"Night," Balto answered and allowed his eyes to close.


	3. Chapter 3

"It's terrible my friends, just terrible," an elderly Saint Bernard mused to a group of his peers which had gathered inside of the town's boiler room, "Steele and his team… are lost."

The news hit the group hard, evoking gasps and outcries of denial then later brought about concerned questions from all who listened, including silent questions from the uninvited guest up in the loft window looking down upon them all. It discomforted him, for he knew that the team was running out of time. Already the children were beginning to fall into the coma stage of the virus, most of the afflicted patients spending the majority of their time in deep, yet restless slumber.

"They missed their second check point," the elder dog continued, moving his tired eyes up to a heavier, tan male of whom sat upon a ledge against the wall, "they're off the trail."

The afore mentioned dog, a well-trained sled dog himself, turned his worried gaze down to Doc's.

"Bu- can't they send another team?" he asked desperately, but this only saddened the elder further.

"I- it's too dangerous for us, and our men," he answered reasonably.

The tan male did not like this answer at all, for his greatest concern rested with the children as well.

"But… what about them little ones?" he begged desperately.

The Saint Bernard had been dreading these words, but they all needed to know so they could get their final goodbyes in before the inevitable fatalities.

"The medicine won't be here in time," he answered, hanging his large head in disdain, "we're going to lose them."

Silence, absolute silence befell the boiler room as each and every canine inside hung their heads in remorse for the children. It was at this moment that nearly all hope had been lost and all thoughts now circulated around what the future would bring.

Outside of the loft window, Balto still stood, his forepaws rested on the windowsill. The news had hit him hard and he had to take a moment to let it all sink in before he could fully comprehend what was happening. He drew his head away, folding his ears back, and after a few moments was he able to regain his composure. He turned away from the window, his muzzle pointed in the general direction of the hospital, and whispered Rosie's name before he pressed himself off of the window and scaled his way down to the ground. What he had just heard continued to oscillate over and over in his mind, those five cutting words playing and then replaying time after time that tormented him to the depths of his very soul. So there really was no hope now? Rosy and dozens of other children were going to die. He was not consciously aware that these thoughts had been driving him further into town, at least not until he was finally able to shake himself fee from such thoughts and found himself to be rounding the corner to the backside of the hospital.

He cared not to contemplate how it was that he had gotten there without realizing, so he simply carried himself further until he arrived at the pile of firewood stacked beneath the windowsill of Rosie's room. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the afflicted child, watching her frail body jerking with each meek cough that she sputtered from her fatigued throat. Standing before her and conversing quietly amongst themselves, was Mr. Brown and Doctor Cheever. Though Balto could not make out what it was that they were saying, he could only assume that they were speaking of Rosy. The brevity of this conversation was quite discerning for the hybrid, but his apprehensions were relinquished when he saw Mr. Brown approach the door and slowly pull it open. Standing in the immediate vicinity of the door frame, waiting to be granted entrance, was Mrs. Brown; and in her arms, cradled gently in their grasp, was Jenna. Balto watched the two enter the room and after Mrs. Brown had taken a few steps forward, she allowed Jenna to slide easily to the floor. With determination, she padded to Rosie's bedside and propped her forepaws up beside the little girl; and for a brief moment, she stared at her. Rosy felt the weight suddenly shift on her bed and this brought her curious eyes open for the first time in over three hours, immediately settling upon her loyal canine companion; and despite her condition, she allowed a meager grin to slowly take life across her lips.

"Jenna?" she asked weakly, flinching her eyes closed as she felt Jenna's tongue gently caress the side of her face.

This in turn caused a felicitous smile to brighten upon her otherwise morbid face; but this smile quickly faded as her little girl's consciousness did and she returned once again to her previous moroseness. With a dejected sigh, she gently laid her head across Rosie's body and closed her eyes, much too tired to allow tears to flow. Watching this all from outside, was Balto, but his attention was quite suddenly drawn away from such a scene when the distant pounding of a hammer sounded in his ears. He pulled his head away from the window, casting a quick glance back to the family gathered inside before he turned his head toward the source of the sound, for it was quite curious that the carpenter should be working at this time of night. He pressed himself down onto all fours and turned his body to the north, striding unwaveringly in the direction of the carpentry building and as he rounded the weather beaten fence, he could see the low glow of torchlight radiating through the open door, bleeding out into the night and across the snow. Balto stepped into this light, cautiously approaching the building, but just before he entered the place in which he could be seen, he altered his course to the left where upon he arrived just to the right of the ajar door. For a moment, he paused through fear of being spotted, but after a moment, he worked up the courage to peek his head around the frame. He stepped forward and turned his eyes into the building.

There he found the carpenter steadily at work, hammering the final nails into… what was it that he was working on? The hybrid couldn't tell, for Mr. Johansson's arms still obstructed his view, but when his arm cleared his line of sight, it became apparent to the half wolf that Johansson had just finished building a small coffin. The initial realization shocked him, causing him to withdraw his head slightly, but he was drawn back into the scene when the old man began to carry the wooden object toward the back wall. Balto narrowed his eyes, watching the man, finding his deliberateness and lack of drive to be quite discontenting. It was, however, very soon afterward discover why, for as the hybrid followed the man with his eyes, they settled upon three coffins of which leaned up against the wall. There were two of similar sizes that disturbed him deeply, and the coffin that Johansson had just finished constructing conincided to such a size: children size.

Balto was completely taken aback by this, for it was not until now that the mortification of the current situation did finally find full purchase in his forethought. So great was the impact of this shock that the hybrid found himself short of breath, nearly knocked onto his haunches by such a crushing realization.

It was all over. Those children were-

No. They may have been ready to give up on those children, but he wasn't, not a chance in hell. He would be dammed before he let those children die. A sudden firmness became present on his features, one that quickly became dominant amongst the entirety of his body. He locked his jaw and turned his body away from the door, making haste toward his boat. He knew that Boris was going to throw a fit when he found out, but at the current moment, the hybrid couldn't care less. One way or another, those children were going to get the medicine that they needed; even if that meant going out there and finding the lost team himself.

* * *

Boris sat out on the bow of the boat silently, his old, beady eyes peering through the darkness toward the black silhouette of the town on the horizon, though he didn't know what good it would do- he wouldn't be able to see Balto against the inky blackness anyway. He sighed and shook his head in exasperation. Why didn't that boy ever listen to him?

He shook his head again and slowly pushed himself to his webbed feet, continuing to regard the town in the distance with heavy thoughts circulating through his mind. Though he was certain that Balto had gone into town (as he had snuck out without telling him where he was going) he still possessed a sense of doubt and foreboding, for, though his hybrid friend had seemed to be feeling better when he went to sleep earlier that evening, he knew that Balto was still reeling from all that had happened earlier and from everything that he had experienced earlier in his life, but what plagued the goose the most at the moment, was the lack of understanding as to why. He recalled finding the pup lost, alone, heartbroken, and half dead, muttering unintelligable nonsense, but the mystery of Balto's past still remained, for he never spoke of it, refused to give even a single hint even now, a whole four years later.

Though he knew not what his friend experienced in his past (and even respected his wish not to speak of it) he knew that it was a great cause of his anguish, even more so than his lack of placement in this world, and often times he wondered about Balto's mental stability. In the first year alone that the two knew each other, Balto had attempted or suicide three times, and contemplated it even more times than that, and, though he seemed to be coping better each day as time rolled past, the possibility of another emotional meltdown was never a thought that escaped the old goose's mind. For all he knew, his companion could have gone to the mountains, to the meadow, or he could have even gone into town in hopes to find a fight the likes of which he knew he could not win so as to make it appear as though his death was not of his own cause.

Or maybe he was worrying too much. Maybe his collective mind was playing with his emotions like it always did- but then again, what if it wasn't?

He sighed again and hung his head, compromising that he would not jump to conclusions as of yet, but would begin walking into town so that he could at least look for his friend. With this resolution reached, he spread his wings and leapt from the bow of the boat, flapping said appendages to slow his descent, and gently touched down in the snow. For a moment he stood and then turned toward the town, but as he turned, he saw a black figure moving steadily toward him. He swallowed his fear and his instinct to hide and squinted his eyes against the dark, finding the mysterious figure to possess the shape of a dog, and when he noticed the way in which such a dog-like figure walked, he knew it to be Balto.

Quickly, he began to waddle toward him, calling out his name.

Having heard his name, Balto lifted his eyes from the snow and turned them toward the near horizon where he found Boris to be approaching him, and when he saw said bird, he sighed.

"So much for leaving unnoticed," he grumbled bitterly under his breath and lifted his head.

"Yes, what is it?" Balto asked the goose impatiently as he came to a stop only a few feet in front of him, "I've gotta get moving on before this all gets any worse."

Boris, confused by the comment, arched an eyebrow.

"Vat are you talking about, boyo?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, "vat's going on?"

Balto rolled his eyes and turned his body around, but Boris hindered his progress by grabbing onto his tail.

Irritated by the interruption, Balto turned quickly to face Boris.

"Everybody else may be willing to sit down and give up," Balto stated firmly, pulling his tail free and continuing to walk, "but I'll be damned if I have to sit here and watch these people die, not when there's something that I can do about it."

Boris, concerned, ran out before him and turned.

"Balto please," he begged, back pedaling before the determined hybrid, of whom failed to even give him the benefit of recognition, "don't go crazy on me now!"

Balto only continued to walk failing to avert his eyes from their original forward position, even after Boris had so foolishly tripped over a discrepancy in the snow.

"This is foolishness!" the old goose continued, trying to speak some sense into the wolf-dog, but Balto only continued to walk.

Boris shouted something at him that he ignored, altering his direction to the left and beneath the immediate level of the snow where the humans excavated the ice so as to not allow it to interfere with the flow of oil lines that ran the length of the tundra and slid flawlessly down a slope of ice. Directly behind him, Boris plopped to the top of said slope after having fallen into one of the empty oil mains, continuing on with his rant; but this rant failed to find purchase in the hybrid's ears. It did, however, reach the ears of the two polar bear cubs, who as quickly and as unexpectedly as an earthquake, struck the old goose from behind and sent him sliding down the icy slope, the two of them following close behind.

The larger of the two uttered something in his unintelligable whimper as they came to a stop about twenty yards from a building and his brother was quick to translate.

"He said-"

"Where is he going?" Boris reiterated, in a flustered tone, interrupting the bear, "he is going out into freezing coldness to find a dog he doesn't like to bring medicine back to a town that doesn't like him!"

Having now realized what he had done after he finished, he threw his wing up in the air.

"Oh no!" he cried, "I am beginning to understand the bear!"

Pleased by this, and in need to catch up with their hybrid friend, the two threw Boris forward again, under a displeasured outcry from the goose, and once he had settled, he sat up.

"Bears! Dogs!" he voiced in frustration, but then was picked up by his head by Balto.

Balto ignored the displeasured grunts and groans that the goose made as he was carried toward the building and once he had hopped up on the stack of cut lumber, he released the goose.

"No brains at all!" Boris vented, wiping his face, "might as well be talking to hu-...mans."

The words were cut directly out of the old goose's mouth whenever his eyes settled upon the small child deteriorating slowly in her bed and his firm, scolding gaze immediately melted into one that was saddened and empathetic. The silence between Boris and Balto was now absolute, disturbed only by the sound of the wind that whipped intermittently between the buildings. Together, they stared through the glass at little Rosy. Her face was a sallow, sickly color and despite her layers of clothes and covers, she still shivered between her weakened fits of coughing. The sight was heartbreaking and very eye opening for Boris and it brought about an entirely new perspective to his mind. His eyes narrowed and he turned, folding his wings in to his sides.

"So, let's go get the medicine," he stated determinedly, hopping down less than gracefully from the pile of lumber on which he had once sat.

Balto followed him with his gaze, lifting a paw to his chest so that he could twist his body in a means suitable for keeping a visual on his friend and he scowled.

"Wait a minute…" he began scornfully, "now you're coming?"

Boris continued to walk without stopping, only lifted his wing in varying gestures.

"Spending days in bitter cold," he mused, then turned to face the hybrid and made a monsterish gesture, "facing vild animals, risking death from exposure!" he turned around and chuckled to himself, resurrecting an old memory from his home, "is like holiday in home country."

Balto couldn't help but smile and as he hopped down from the pile of wood to follow, he determined that he would return to town with the medicine in tow, or he would die trying, right along with Rosy and the other afflicted citizens of Nome.

* * *

She stared longingly into the window of the town's hospital, silently watching over her little girl as her life so steadily slipped away from her grasp. She felt as though she were staring at a candle whose wick was steadily growing shorter as the flame that was its life steadily withered it away, and knew that, like such a candle, the flickering flame that was Rosy's life was beginning to grow weaker as the wick which sustained it was devoured by her accursed affliction. She hoped and she prayed to whichever personal God she chose, hanging on so desperately to the faith that Steele, no matter how she despised him, and his team would pull through the storm and manage to find their way to town; but by now she was certain that it was already too late. Steele and his team would be lost until the storm cleared and by that time, she will have already watched her little girl die.

It truly was an awful speculation, but she could not deny the facts. Hoping was pointless, for once stricken by the diphtheria, there was no cure unless treated by an antitoxin, and hoping would only call for further disappointment and heartbreak when the inevitable finally came.

This was still, however, quite difficult to find herself thinking, for now she realized fully how dire the situation had become. If negative outlooks were all that could be seen in her mind, there truly was no hope left, and upon this realization, found as she stared so longingly at her little girl's deteriorating body, she found tears beginning to sting her eyes once again. With a quick, dejected and exhausted sniff- as she had not slept since the news of the team's disappearance- she laid her chin upon the windowsill, closed her eyes, and began to let the tears flow.

However, after a few moments spent in tears, something caught her attention, causing her to slowly open her eyes and lift her head so that she may further assess the situation. It was funny to her, the situation, for what had caught her attention was what appeared to be Balto's scent. She lifted her head to its max and then took a confirmatory sniff, finding that this indeed was the hybrid's scent. His scent being there made sense, for she knew that he, like the town's dark angel that he was, would have already made his rounds about the hospital and about the town so that he may keep an eye on its people, but what troubled her, was how fresh his scent was- about ten minutes old. Curious, she followed the scent and then found four sets of footprints the likes of which she had not seen upon her arrival, each of which leading in the same direction. Out of town.

Like a flower blossoming in the rays of the coming day, she felt hope begin to blossom in her once again, for there was somebody looking for the team after all, and, though still vaguely present, she had little doubt that he would find them and bring them home safely.

**Thank you to my reviewers, those who favorited me as an author and my story, and to those who followed. I appreciate it guys. **


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